The full moons rose high, its twin companions casting a silvery sheen over the Compass. The crew moved with purpose, the hum of quiet conversations and the rustling of supplies filling the air. Bags were packed tight, the remaining weapons checked and secured, and the ship's hull gleamed with a fresh polish.
The atmosphere was a mix of anticipation and unease, each member ready to leave the lone island, yet unsure of what lay ahead.
They had been at peace for now three months.
Arthur stood near the prow, his gaze fixed westward. The ocean stretched out endlessly, a mirror reflecting the moons' glow. Behind him, Seisyll adjusted the Compass's beastcore, ensuring Sally's newly enhanced systems were primed for the voyage.
Melite and Fedlimid worked in tandem, their movements efficient as they stored the last of their gear below deck.
